Originally submitted and published in multiple papers, including Philly Daily Worker, in 1953.
Bookkeeper wanted? There were a lot of ads in the Philadelphia Inquirer, One whole column and a half– I picked out a good one: Bookkeeper, capable of handling complete set of books, small manufacturing concern, young woman, experienced, call between 9-11. Ask for Mr. Major “Good morning, Mr. Major. This is Miss Brown. I’m calling in reference to your advertisement.” “Tell me something about yourself.” “I’ve five years experience. “Three in your line… I’ve worked for Shining Example Lamp Co… “Business school training… “Excellent references…” “GOOD, Miss Brown– “Come right down” “Be there in twenty minutes…” “Oh you live nearby?” “Yes.” “Good, we wanted a girl who lives nearby.” I WENT for the job. The girl in the front office smiled. (After she’d gotten over her surprise.) Mr. Major smiled, too. (After he’d gotten over his surprise.) He took my name again, My address, telephone number, my references. Said they were good. Said he’d call me. Had a few more girls to interview. He didn’t call. I WENT for a job. Big auto concern. The girl in the front office said: “Sorry the job is filled…” One week later they were still advertising for a bookkeeper. I WENT for a job. Filled out an application. They thanked me, smiled, said they’d let me know. I WENT for a job. Bkpr. g’d working conditions, g’d salary. He saw me and said: “75 cents an hour. 48-hour week.” “But nobody offers a trained bookkeeper, excellent references, with five years experience less than $50 a week. “Take it or leave it.” I WENT for a job. Button manufacturer. Said he hadn’t expected a colored girl. Said of course he wasn’t prejudiced. Liked my references. Liked my personality. Liked my looks. Said he’d let me know. Reached out his hand as a rose to go. Not for my hand. He was a little too low for that. Said he really liked me. I stepped back quickly. I walked out thinking, something ought to be done about it But how can you prove it. His word against mine. The white press wouldn’t take a colored woman’s word. I WENT for a job and another and another. My money gave out and I walked. Signed up for compensation. Said I left my last job voluntarily. I had to have an operation. But that didn’t count. I didn’t get it. I WENT for a job and another and another. I walked so many white places. Saw so many white faces, smiling—postponing—thanking me sometimes, Saying they’d let me know. My coat got dirty. My shoes run-over. Debts bigger. I WENT to the Fair Employment Practices Commission Spent a whole morning reporting—telling them what I’d been through, Cited places that obviously discriminated. They agreed. They’d investigate. Borrowed more money Got my coat cleaned A $1.98 pair of shoes. AND I WENT for a job. He was surprised and showed it. Was I really a bookkeeper. Had I worked for white people? Yes! I showed him my references. He didn’t ask but I showed him anyway. “Do you do shorthand?” “No. Your ad was for a bookkeeper, full charge.” “Sorry. It should have said expert stenographer.” “He continued to advertise for the rest of the week For “Bookkeeper, experienced, full charge.” I WENT for a job The sign over the cash register said “Smile. Honest it won’t hurt.” The man smiled and turned his back. I thought How can you tell what’s in a smile When a white boss’s smiling it In your black face. I HEARD from the FEPC office They had investigated my charges Found that I hadn’t been discriminated against. FOR THREE MONTHS I visited Three employers a day. I went for a job. I visited over 100 places. I looked for work as a bookkeeper, five years’ experience, Excellent references… I’m still looking…
